The family. We are a strange little band of characters trudging through life, sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that binds us all together.

- Erma Bombeck

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Abraham the Free Range Pig

I have given up trying to keep Abraham (the pig) in his pen.  Every day he pushes his way out of his pen under the fence.  Every day I put him back at least half a dozen times.  Until we can put a hot wire around the base of his pen, I have resigned myself to the fact that I have a free range pig.

What does that mean?  It means that I must take steps to protect all items within his reach on the farm.  It means that the chicken coop needs to be barracaded or he will go in, eat the chicken food, overturn their nesting boxes, and root up the ground in their pen.  It means that the entrances to the shed must be blocked with gates or he will go in, knock the milking stand over, rip open the feed bags, and eat his fill of the grain.   It means that the hot wire fence surrounding the garden must always be on or he will go in and root the whole thing up.  It means that every morning there will be some sort of new destruction for me to clean up outside.

I would just put the hot wire up myself, but the fence posts are galvanized pipe and we need to drill the insulators onto the pipes...something that I need to use J's tools for and he's working.  So until this weekend, I have a free range pig.

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